To Forget
by Michiko Yokisama
Summary: How do we make ourselves let go to look forward to the new day? Where do we start rebuilding, when everything we've loved has been destroyed? RenoxOC Oneshot Introspection


Author's Notes: This was going to be multi-chapter, but for now, I think continuing with the story would stretch and abuse the emotions. Those who clicked here intending to read something full of 'hot hot love' will be disappointed. I wrote this largely with the intention of an introspective piece. Also, please note that the PoV is intentional. I was trying a different writing style.

RenoxOC.

First FFVII fanfic. Please enjoy.

xoxoxoxoxo

To Forget

There's a new bakery-café open down on the corner of Gave and Fourth Street. It's bright, not with garish colors, but the brightness of clean pastels. Reno is sure that it will succumb to the cities' darkness soon; it's inevitable, that gradual layering in soot and pollution.

But in the meantime, Elena has come in with a steaming cup of coffee from the place. It smells wonderful, and she says it tastes that way too, "just the way she likes it," and Reno has half a mind to go check out the shop, especially when the secretaries start bringing in cakes and pastries and coffee cups of their own to consume, filling the air with tantalizing scents.

So Reno succumbs to the sway of popular opinion, though he's still sure that even this little fad with soon die away into the background of memories.

xoxoxoxoxo

It's just as cute on the inside as it is on the outside, Reno notices as he walks in, and the bell over the door chimes gently. It's cute and neat, and Reno feels slightly out of place in his wrinkled, un-tucked shirt, and loose suit.

Not to mention the fact that he's getting glares from some of the morning's customers; probably those still holding on to grudges against ShinRa, despite all the work the company's put into rebuilding. (Reno doesn't blame them though, he knows where they're coming from, has been there himself at one point.)

At any rate, the line is longer than he anticipated which gives him plenty of time to look around.

The space is dimly lit, and the evenly spaced tables and chairs help give off a 'café feel' whatever the hell that is. It still seems bright though, and Reno can only attribute that to the fresh, clean paint on the walls.

The walls are adorned with various advertising posters, featuring cute girls with cakes. Reno wonders vaguely if these are the actual workers or just models.

He realizes the former is correct, as he recognizes one of the waitresses walking past him, smile plastered firmly on. She's wearing a proper uniform, black suit pants with a neat white button up shirt, unlike most of the restaurant waitresses around here. Too bad, Reno thinks, because she'd have really nice legs, if she was wearing a skirt.

A voice clears its throat and distracts him. At the counter is a Wutain – no, Reno corrects himself, she's only half-Wutain – girl, who glares at him for half a second to reprimand him for inattentiveness, then switches to the patented host smile.

So Reno places his order – four different coffees, since he's picking up for all the Turks today. She nods her head, and Reno expects a boring wait, and is surprised when she says, "Picking up for Elena today too?"

The surprise must show, because she laughs, even as she turns to make the drinks, and answers the unasked question that floats between them. "Server's perrogative to know their customers, right?"

Reno is intrigued, because there is a slight tinge of slum to her accent. He wonders how old this girl is, and who the owner is, to have so judiciously hired a girl from the sectors.

He asks both these questions with his trademark smile, as the girl passes him the tray of coffees and rings up his order. She gives him a quick, ironic glance, and then laughs. She's awfully happy for so early in the morning, Reno thinks. She tells him that _she's_ the owner, sort of, that all the people who work here are from the slums, and "Have a nice day, sir," before she turns to the next customer, even though she hasn't really answered his questions, and now he's got several more to ask.

Reno's surprised for the second time that day, and, as he walks back out into the early morning grey, taking a sip from his coffee, he thinks that maybe he'll volunteer for the coffee run tomorrow.

xoxoxoxoxo

The wrappers and cups from the café can be seen in most of the ShinRa building's trashcans. The bakery hasn't faded, as Reno once predicted, although it's certainly less talked about, as if it's a treasured secret, only to be given out to the most worthy. The customers who go there think of themselves as part of an exclusive club, or a family.

The paint outside certainly isn't as fresh as it was that first day, although the workers still conscientiously keep the building clean. Since that first morning, Reno's become one of the regulars. Not all the customers like it, the fact that the Turks come here, but they accept it, so Reno doesn't really care too much.

The waitresses know the regulars, know their faces, orders, preferences, schedules. In turn, the regulars know theirs.

The café is run by six girls and one boy as Reno knows now (as all the regulars know), all of them from the Sector 7 slums. They pooled the money ShinRa gave them to rebuild their homes, and built this café instead.

It's a better use for their money, as Sasha (the girl with the nice legs) tells him, (and as Arianna or Emiko or Karen or Xing or Chloe or Ian will tell a regular), because this way they have a livelihood, and they're making more money in the long run. So, technically, they're all the owners, although Emiko was the one to come up with the idea.

Reno likes it, the idea that these slum kids (because he thinks of them as kids, they're all in their early twenties, and he's hitting twenty-seven soon) can rise out of the Midgar gloom on their own.

Occasionally, though, he thinks that they don't like him as much as he likes them, when he notices their smiles don't always reach their eyes when they talk to him, and that sometimes their gestures are slightly stiff. An instant later, though, he puts it down to stress, and teases Emiko that she's getting gray hairs, and she laughs, and he forgets his concerns.

Still, sometimes, in his office, when he's got nothing else to do, or he's just slacking off, he wonders if there's some truth in his observations (because he's a Turk, and he knows how to watch people), and he wonders if maybe the fact that they're from the Sector Seven slums is something to keep in mind.

xoxoxoxoxo

All the regulars have favorites, although Ian's going out with Sasha, and has been for the past two years, and he's quick to fight anyone who's too forward with any of the girls.

Emiko is Reno's favorite, maybe because she was the first one he talked to, maybe because she's good friends with Elena now, maybe because she's always so cheerful, maybe because she doesn't succumb to his playful glances like most of the secretaries at ShinRa, and punches him lightly in the shoulder instead.

He's found that although they all take turns waiting tables, or running the cash register, or baking, Emiko is really the one in charge.

She was, as Ian tells it, voice full of sarcastic fear, the one to track them all down and bring them together, "like she was on a hunt or something, practically burning with purpose." They both laugh, because they know how scary girls can be, and each get a punch in the shoulder from Emiko for their trouble.

xoxoxoxoxo

Emiko's also the one that stays behind in the evening, with the lights set even dimmer than usually, and the chairs upside down on the tables, doing the accounts, as Reno finds out one evening, when he's driving home from a late night at work, and sees that the bakery's lights are still glowing.

The bell chimes familiarly as he pushes open the door, and he breathes in the scent of bread and coffee that seems to have imbued itself into the walls of the place.

Emiko looks up, startled, from the piece of paper that she is bent over, blinks, and asks, ' Reno?'

He smirks lopsidedly, "Watcha doin' here so late, babe?"

She laughs, as he knows she will, and doesn't yell at him for calling her 'babe,' "Just finishing the last of the business for today." She rubs at her face, and sets down her pen, and looks at Reno, returning the smile, "You?"

"Late day at work." She nods knowingly.

"Want something to drink?" she asks.

At the same time, he asks, "Got some coffee?"

She laughs, and he grins, "The usual?" she checks.

"Sure thing, babe."

She fixes the coffee, and he takes the chance to lean over the counter and peek at the paper she's been writing on (it's a Turk habit). The paper is an inventory/sales sheet, and it looks like they're making quite a good profit. He grins, and sits back down, whistling an out of tune melody that comes unbidden to his lips.

She comes back with his coffee, and he drinks it, eyes wandering the café (it looks different without all the people), as she finishes her forms in silence.

She looks up when she's done, and says, "That's one hell of a crappy tune, Reno," and laughs. She never calls him 'Turk,' none of the workers here do, and he's thankful for that.

He grins lopsidedly, "You can do better, then?"

She grins back, "Nope. Can't even whistle."

They both laugh then, and though her laugh is higher than his, it's still a low sound; not the bright tinkling one of that Ancient, but the laugh of someone who's learned to live in the slums, and who's put those lessons into their laughter.

It's a familiar sound of companionship, one that Reno hasn't heard coming from anyone other than Rude, Elena or Tseng for a while.

Reno likes it, this mutual acceptance and its absence of demands, and makes time for these evening bakery visits on the days that he doesn't have any previous obligations to work, a bar, or another girl.

Emiko doesn't say whether or not she likes it, but welcomes him when he does come, and doesn't question him when he doesn't.

xoxoxoxoxo

One evening, Reno comes in, and the lights are as dim as ever, and bell chimes just as it always does, only there's no voice that says his name ('Always the tone of surprise,' he usually teases, and she laughs).

It's instinct for him as a Turk to automatically assume the worst, and he instantly surveys the entire room wtih suspicious eyes. He sees her slumped form behind the register, and as the form rises slowly up and down, Reno realizes that she's fallen asleep on her work.

He moves closer, and then slips around the counter to stand beside her. She's slightly drooling, and when Reno gently lifts her shoulders from the desk, the paper sticks to her face.

Reno stifles a laugh, and then chokes, slamming back on his instinct to fight, when her eyes snap open, and she whirls around, grabbing one of his wrists with a hard grip. The stool she sits on is knocked to the floor, and her eyes are flashing. For an instant, they stare at each other in silence. Reno's heart is racing, and he's berating himself for dropping his guard (unexcusable in a Turk) because he forgot for a second that she was a slum girl too.

Emiko's eyes are harder than he's ever seen them, but she blinks and an instant later, her usual smile is back, though Reno can not help but notice it's strained.

She laughs, "Man, Reno, you shouldn't sneak up on people like that! I nearly had a heart attack!" and she's righting the stool, and ushering him back onto the customer's side of the counter, but not before he notices that below the counter, there is a small shrine, though he cannot see the picture of who it's to.

The coffee is served, and the drink and the work are finished in silence. Reno leaves early, because her smile is wan, and he can tell she doesn't want him to stick around.

Instead, he goes out drinking, and wakes up the next morning in yet another unfamiliar bed with an unfamiliar girl, with a familiarly pounding headache.

xoxoxoxoxo

Sometimes, weeks pass when none of the Turks come in for their coffee. The café workers all know that they must be out for a mission, but they remain tactfully mute about the topic, even when Elena comes in with a fresh cut on her chin, or when Rude comes in with a suit less-than-freshly-pressed.

Emiko knows that Reno never comes in for coffee until several days after the mission is finished because of all the paperwork. She knows because one evening, he comes in after being gone for almost two weeks, and throws himself into a chair, tilts back on it, and rests his feet on the counter, before she can even greet him.

"Holy, I _hate_ paperwork," he complains.

She laughs, greets him, and makes his coffee, "I though _I _hated paperwork, but I guess I've got nothing on the work you have to do."

"Damn straight," he mumbles, and pinches the bridge of his nose. He takes the coffee she passes him gratefully, and downs it all in one gulp, despite the fact that it's burning hot, "Wanna go for a drink?" he asks.

She raises an eyebrow at him, "As in to a bar?"

He rolls his eyes, "Where else, babe?"

She grins and sighs, "True. But I don't drink."

The two air born chair legs hit the ground with a clunk. It's Reno's turn to raise an eyebrow, and his expression is incredulous, as he leans against her counter, thoroughly invading her space. "Since when does a slum kid _not drink_?" he asks in a tone of mock horror.

She punches his arm, laughing. "Since I stopped."

It's a cryptic answer, and Reno's heard enough of these to know that no matter who it comes from, and what expression they're wearing, the topic should not be pursued.

Reno shrugs and leaves. The door jingles closed behind him, but he can feel her eyes on his back, watching him. It's not a good feeling.

It's another reminder of her odd background, and though Reno knows better, he's surprised. And again, though he knows better, Reno begins to finish their evening conversations with an invitation to go drinking. The answer is always no.

xoxoxoxoxo

That Day looms on the calendar. The day when people on the streets glare at him, and it's excused. The day that he usualy spends holed up in some bar, or at home with a stache of beers, trying to drown the memories of the screams, the feel of the button he pressed, the shifting steel beneath his feet.

Only this year, Bossman decides that it will be good for him to show up. There. On That Day. Because it will 'help ShinRa's image, to be seen as caring and repentant.'

"Hell _no_," says Reno, and he stalks out of the building, even though it's only midmorning, and there's still a large stack of paperwork sitting on his desk.

He doesn't take his car, and walks instead, just to clear his head, not caring where he goes. He's bound to get in trouble for walking out on the boss, so he's going to avoid going back for the rest of the day.

He hates being reminded of his part in the action. Dropping the Sector Seven plate... what could he have done? Orders were orders.

What these people forget, or, at least willfully refuse to remember, is the rule of survival. He'd come from the slums, and so he knew the rule - do what you can to keep yourself alive.

They hate him for it, even as they live by the exact same rule. Hate him because it feels like a betrayl, as if he isn't playing on an even field with the rest of them, while he works with the ShinRa enemy, especially as he advertises his origin so blatantly with his messy appearance, and his undeniable accent.

Still. Orders are orders, and though ShinRa isn't quite as ruthless as it used to be, the obedience has been beaten into him. Reno goes.

xoxoxoxoxo

The cafe closes in respect for The Day, and Reno feels irrationally angry that these people, who'd previously seemed so immune to the normal 'Turk' name calling, have succumbed to the pressure.

Reno blames it on the fact that he hasn't gotten his proper coffee fix, and has had to make do with some watery crap that he found in the back of the pantry.

He doesn't want to admit that he's afraid that he'll see people he knows down at the memorial.

xoxoxoxoxo

It's a boring and gloomy affair, and Reno sits on a convenient bench to watch the people trickle in. Elena has gone for cofee, and Tseng and Rude are taking security measures, and walking the perimeter.

He doesn't get why he's here, because if he'd wanted to get spit at, or glared at, he could have just taken a stroll down some back alley elsewhere. But as it is, he's here, and he's getting spit at and glared at, and sometimes ignored, but that last one is fine with him. He sticks his tongue out at a kid who's staring at him. The child returns the favor.

"Well, that's not very diplomatic," says Elena, coming back with the coffee, 'How about you actually do what we came here for?'

"How 'bout _you_?" Reno retorts.

Reno rolls his eyes as Elena gives him a look, and proceeds to approach the crowds, coffee cup in hand.

He follows the flow of people into the memorial, to rows and rows of marked and unmarked graves, sloping up gently away from the entrance.

He wanders amongst the graves, not really seeing them. He's more watchful of the people around him. Despite the fact that ShinRa reputation has improved, the Turks are always wary of radicals.

Something moves quickly in the corner of Reno's eye, and he turns to see who it is. A child running to his mother. Cute. Reno begins to turn away, but notices that behind the mother, there is another girl, crouched over a gravestone. Slight wisps of incense smoke float, and now that he's focusing, Reno can see that it's Emiko over the grave, and Chloe holding the child.

He pauses for a second, unsure, but it's his job, isn't it, and the child has noticed him, and is tugging on Chloe's sleeve, who turns to look.

An instant later, Reno is making his way to the trio.

xoxoxoxoxo

"Yo..."

The smile Chloe gives him is strained, she says a quiet, "Hello."

Emiko's eyes flick toward them, but return just as quickly to the grave stone.

The child watches him, eyes wide. "Mistah, your hair is on fire."

Chloe laughs, and explains what it really is. Reno asks if he's her son. He is. Reno is struck by a sinking feeling in his stomach. This is why he did not want to come. "His father is...?"

Chloe points over his shoulder, "He's coming."

Reno turns with relief to see a man making his way towards them - not dead, not killed, and not Reno's fault.

"Chloe!" the man shouts, "What are you doing with _him_?"

Reno grits his teeth, but says nothing. Chloe does not answer, but steps to make her way to her husband."We're here to visit my brother," she tells Reno before she leaves, then lowers her voice to a whisper, "Take care of Emi for me."

She runs the rest of the way to her husband, who puts a protective arm around her, and glares back at Reno. Chloe seems to attempt to console him, and their child's shouts about wanting red hair fracture the air.

xoxoxoxoxo

There seems to be something ironic about this, Reno thinks as he watches Emiko for a while, she's praying something, and her lips are moving, but Reno cannot hear the words that she is saying.

He feels the sudden urge to call Chloe back and tell her that she's got the wrong person. He wants to remnd her that he's the one that killed these people in the first place, so how the hell is he supposed to make anyone here feel better, unless he lets _them_ kill _him_?

He kneels down next to Emiko, and her lips stop moving. Once he knows she's listening, he whispers, "I'm sorry," and he thinks briefly maybe he really is.

Her lips twist in a funny way, and Reno realizes that she's trying to smile. "I know," she says.

There is a pause.

"I know," she repeats, "Is it enough?"

Reno feels hurt for a brief instant, and then falls back on his Turk training. This is a job, nothing more. "No, I guess not, huh?" he asks in a casual tone.

She looks up at him, wonderingly. He looks back, wondering why she's wondering.

"Do you have to sound so calm about it?"

"Yes." he says, meaning many things at once.

But she seems to understand, and this time when she tries to smile, it looks a lot more realistic. "I thought I hated you," she says in a whisper.

Reno doesn't know what to say, cannot think, for a brief instant the incense is too strong, and smothers him.

"It was so easy, ya know? It _is_ so easy to hate someone you've never met, and to just blame them, because you don't want to blame yourself. I hated you... for being able to walk into the cafe, and to face me.. us... without something happening. It felt... so wrong, I kept halfway expecting something to come down and stirke you down for coming."

Reno clears his throat, and opens his mouth to say something, "So why did you..." but she does not acknowledge him, and the words die.

"But any paying customer is a customer in my book, right? I thought, this way, we're getting money from ShinRa. It was like double revenge.' She laughs, but it does not sound like her laugh at all, 'But it wasn't. Holy, you were so fuckin' _cheerful_ all the time."

"So were you," he counters.

"Yea..." she trails off, staring at the ground, drawing circles in the ashes of the incense, "At first...I kept making myself look for something to hate. I think... we all did, and then we hated that we couldn't find anything."

"...I'm a flirt," he offers, "People hate my accent. People hate that I'm a slum kid workin' for ShinRa."

"But I'm from the slums too, Reno," and she looks at him, with clear, clear eyes, and time seems to freeze. "I _know. _I know where you're coming from, I've been there, and I'd probably have done the same if it was up to me...in the end.. it all comes down to survival..."

Reno wonders how she could have taken the words straight from his head.

"Who're you visiting?" he asks, changing the topic.

"Touya..." she says the word softly, as if it is a prayer in itself, a knife of ice seems to sink into Reno

"Your...?"

"...husband." Reno feels the knife twist.

"I'm sorry," he says again, because there doesn't seem to be anything else to say, and this time, he knows he means it.

She does not answer for the longest time, and Reno is afraid that she never will.

But the words come, slowly at first, and then faster. 'I'm... sorry, too. I don't blame you. I don't hate you. I don't... Reno...'

She says his name for the first time, and her voice sounds so broken that Reno is afraid that he's destroyed something in her.

She is crying without sobbing, a silent mourning that makes Reno want to run away. Instead, he puts an arm around her, cautiously, because he hasn't done something like this in a long time, and is not sure he remembers how. She does not resist.

Reno does not know how much time passes, as they watch the smoke throw sideways shadows over the stones.

xoxoxoxoxo

R&R, Concrit appreciated


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